Willa & the Extraordinary Internship

CH.6

"So what did you think?" Willa asked eagerly, jamming the little key, small enough to belong to a dollhouse, in the knob. A little twist wouldn't do the trick; she had to use her shoulder to push against the heavy wooden door until she felt it give.

"I liked it," Maryam said cautiously through the phone in Willa's ear. "But you can't publish it."

"Why not?" Willa's voice was flat. For the past few months, she'd been squirreling away stories like a rodent anticipating a hard winter and for once, had taken Cyn's advice and done something productive. Her three-hundred-and-twenty-eight page manuscript was freshly printed and in her arms, awaiting Paige Grimsby's return from lunch so the author could take a look at it. The other copy was with her best friend, and from Maryam's voice, Willa could tell Maryam had made up her mind.

"The main character is a thinly-veiled version of Cyn!"

"Creative license," Willa said dismissively.

"Cyn won't see it that way," Maryam warned. "Willa, is this because of...?" Her voice trailed off.

"No," snapped Willa, shutting the door behind her with an audible click. "It's not because of Luke." Luke Derwent was a bit of a sore subject right now. Cyn had been the one to encourage her to go out with him in the first place and like a dog with a bone, she was his most ardent supporter, convinced he and Willa should be every inch as happy as she and Grayson were. Suffice it to say, Willa couldn't help be a little bitter whenever Cyn counseled patience; why did it seem like she was rooting for Luke more than Willa, her actual friend?

Paige's office door creaked. Willa froze. With a sheepish expression on his face, a young man emerged, holding his hands in the air in mock-surrender. "Let me call you back." She ended the call and gave the boy a stern look. "Professor Grimsby doesn't hold office hours until 1 PM, and that's," she glanced at her cell phone, "in ten minutes."

"I'm not a student." He took a step forward and stuck his hand out. "Nate. Nathan Wheeler."

"Willa Grainger." She ignored his hand. Partly because her hands were full. Partly because he was hot and she was pretty sure her palms had just gone clammy. "What were you doing in her office?"

Almost as if he didn't notice her narrowed, suspicious eyes, Nate answered cheerfully. "Just taking a peek at where the magic happens." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair; the perfect, thick and wavy mane that European men had in spades.

"You're a fan?" She kind of doubted that. Paige's fan base was mostly girls twelve and up who all fell in love with Simeon because he was British and had man-bangs.

"Yeah." His smile was too-bright, too-forced. She also noticed a glorious dimple in his right cheek and immediately kicked herself for noticing it.

There was nothing important in there, not important enough to steal. And Paige's manuscript for the conclusion of her trilogy was safely tucked away on the university's secure, encrypted servers. "Okay." She shrugged. "I can let her know you stopped by, if you want?"

"No, that's okay." Nate shoved his hands in his pocket.

She wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't cool that he was rummaging around in her boss' office, but did Willa care enough to make a scene about it? The tense, awkward silence stretched between them. He opened his mouth as if he could take no more of it, then shut it again just as swiftly.

"Well, I better get to work," Willa said awkwardly, sidestepping him to get to her computer.

Surprise colored his voice. "You work for her?" His friendly expression dropped in an instant, like she'd told him she was a neo-Nazi. "See you around."